


Boris

by frozenfish



Category: Naruto
Genre: Anbu Hatake Kakashi, Blood and Injury, Cock Warming, Creampie, Dark Uchiha Obito, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Drug Use, Drugged Sex, F/M, Female Hatake Kakashi, Mutual Pining, She is a BAMF, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, jounin uchiha obito, they both have issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:47:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29477199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frozenfish/pseuds/frozenfish
Summary: “Anbu put me on leave for the authority thought I was mad -- the objective said he was going to put his dick in to my left eye, which I allowed -- ”Fuck it, she did love that sullen look from Obito.“I chopped his dick off with Kamui,” she sneered, “it seems that even applying hospice cares is going to be censured, which is really --”
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi/Uchiha Obito
Comments: 2
Kudos: 31





	Boris

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [【带卡 | 上忍堍/暗部卡】Boris](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27133264) by [frozenfish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/frozenfish/pseuds/frozenfish). 



> Want to write another Obito/female!Kakashi fic if I got time. Somehow I felt like female Kakashi will be more insane. That would be fun!

When Uchiha Obito woke up from that weird dream with a jerk, Kakashi was still nowhere to be seen. This was perfectly normal, considering the duty and schedule of Anbu.  
Nevertheless, being aware of such basic facts would not help to improve one’s mood and his brain seemed to be stuck in the previous images while trying desperately to pick up all those lost fragments over and over again vainly. Obito could only remember he was cracking some kind of purple-colored fruit open before waking up -- there was some milky stuff and tiny pink meat oozing from the inside whereas the other were just dimmed pieces.  
The frustrations and negative emotions from early of the day were mixed together. As a result, when he decide to shuffle back to the tatami after releasing his bladder, Obito nearly stepped on the householder’s hair.  
Kakashi was laid facedown in the porch. Her clothes was completely absorbed by the darkness, which made the kunoichi looked like a body cut into pieces, with all those pale limbs scattered neatly on the floor -- Obito couldn’t help feeling like this person would have lain with her hands tightly against the seam of trousers even if she was killed on duty.  
The silvery mist spread over the floor began to flow. A single red eye was glowing dully through it, “Good morning.”  
Obito activate his right eyes to check up. He was not surprised to see two dilated pupils and the lazily moving chakra flow with medication suppression, “Having fun, did you?”  
“It will be counted as fun only when I ask for it myself -- ” all those motionless limbs slowly propped up to form a sort of dangling scarecrow, “Apparently, I have been forced to take a break --” the hazy silver mist billowed past Obito -- the window was closed and curtains were lowered, “Anything I can do for you?”  
Obito thought that he shouldn’t feel grumpy or play charades with a Anbu who was obviously on high, maybe the best way is to be straightforward. Then, “Nothing. I just dropped by.”  
Without moonlights, the room soon darkened completely and the silvery mist vanished as well, “Well, I might need some help. Would you mind stitching a cut on my side?”  
That wasn’t hard. Obito breathed out a quiet sigh of relief. He preferred and was more good at actions. Also, it could serve as a chance for them to talk -- about what? What was I trying to ask her anyway?  
“Why don’t you go to the hospital?” He returned to the bathroom, preparing to wash hands.  
“There will be records, stupid,” Kakashi was now bent over a cabinet next to her tatami, probably looking for the medical kit. Her voice was quiet and dull, “Why do you think they want to force me to take a leave? The Sandaime --”  
It was at that very moment the tap was turned one and the splashing water covered her tiny voice. By the time Obito returned, Kakashi had stopped talking. She stripped herself down to a plain pair of black boxers, half closing her eyes and stretching a bandaged leg across the mat.  
Kakashi was still skinny just like she used to be as a child. She looked more like a scarecrow than ever with that unconsciously hunched over due to the increased height. Obito had never saw anything beautiful from this flat figure, nor could he understand why it would be attractive enough to actually lure and kill anyone. He knew, of course, being an Anbu means that one must resort to all kinds of extreme means to fulfill one’s duties. It was common knowledge, after all. Yet, in short, Obito has never found Kakashi’s body being sexually appealing.  
“The wound is right here,” Kakashi lifted her hand to gesture, “It will be easier if you get behind me.”  
Obito’s gaze followed her fingertips across two tiny breasts, which were slumbering in front of the sternum, then through the shallow hollow between ribs and finally to the cut over the left side: Even by the dimmed light from the street lamp through gaps, he could still see fibrous residues and oozing tissue fluid clinging on the wound.  
Kakashi didn’t turned on the light until the other settled down. She stretched one arm to flip the switch. The sudden flash made them squint for a moment. The fluorescent white light was spilled over the same pale skin. Obito even suspected that they have done some permanent damages to his retinas. He seemed to take a while to realize that those dark, leaping spots were not floaters caused by bright light, but fresh bruises: purple marks ran down from Kakashi’s waist towards her hips. Angry red brands recover those which had begun to turn yellow, forming ambiguous palm prints.  
Being an Anbu means that one must resort to all kinds of extreme means to fulfill one’s duties. This was the common knowledge.  
Hatake Kakashi is the youngest and most famous Anbu captain in Konoha. This was also the common knowledge.  
Common senses need not to be proofed or considered. In other words, he should have be used to all those taboos which were already known by both of them, until they were all popped up in this dirty manner, finally forming a clear outline and shape. The oxygen boiling in Obito’s lungs was fuming. It cut along soft mucous membrane, plugging hotly in his nose.  
“No need for anesthesia,” Kakashi yawned, as the drugs began to take effect on her voice, “I am as good as dead now. What Anbu provided was, of course -- the best.”  
Obito was disgusted at first. Then came the anger. This pathetic trash was really different from Rin -- Rin is always beautiful and pure -- even when she chose to suicide on Chidori for Konoha, lying in the muddy water with a big hole on her chest. That thirteen-year-old Rin was another faraway dream and he didn’t even bother to grasp it for the dead shall never betray. As for Kakashi --  
Kakashi was still alive, allowing other people to pollute her with their dirty bloody hands. It is obvious that she would soon be devoured by this incorrigible ninja world -- and this drugged bitch just sat in front of him, dirty, unrecognizable, still alive and close at hand, asking incoherently and lazily, “What is the matter? Are you capable or not?”  
Obito did not reply. He stared at that wound: the cut was deep, with pink flesh beneath a half-solidified black blood clot -- unfuring, contracting and unfuring with the rhythm of her breath. It was the most ugly thing he had ever seen. Obito finally put all those dimmed pieces together: Kakashi was riding on a stranger’s lap, grabbed by the waist while pushing up and down with all those thin and tight muscle strained. Her tiny breast were pinched into different shapes. She never looked at Obito for once but those eyes had already condemned the man beneath her. The howling Chidori was gathering on her fingertips and finally sank down into the body -- Obito was wrapped in to some warm and slippery tissues. All his jangling disgust and anger soon settled into a more intense desire.  
Therefore, the festering wound has transformed into some kind of erotic sex organ for Obito. He imagined himself pushing into the cut with two fingers, passing through those pink skin, light yellow fat, dark red muscles and pale bones. This Kakashi who was as good as dead won’t scream. But no matter, Obito could grab her heart and he would pump all his dirty and obscure feelings with blood into that organ. His chakra would leave some permanent bruises on her heart, moving with every beating -- trashes and forgeries will be together forever in this vast dump.  
“Why don’t you give it a try, huh?” he growled back.  
The needle went in and out of the pale flesh one last time. Obito burned out the thread with a flick of flame from his fingertip and then put his forearm around her chest to apply bandages.  
“Well,” Kakashi mumbled slowly, after a long pause, “I thought I was the one who get high?”  
Obito was not really good at first aiding. The lower part of her chest was squished so tightly that the rough edge of the gauze cut deep into the nipples and pushed them miserably back into the less plump breasts. Kakashi began to wonder vaguely whether Obito had done it on purpose but she soon warned herself better not to be too mawkish, “Uh, anyway. I’m sorry. I can’t control my actions in this condition.”  
Obito looked at those dilated pupils, “I know. That is why I am going to stay with you tonight.”  
The young Anbu captain let out a unclear laugh between her teeth, felling back down to the hard mat and pulled the blanket up to her hips, “I haven’t got that low as to be taken care of by you.”  
“And I thought you just said,” Obito said deliberately, “you were the one who got high.”  
Silence. Then Kakashi closed her eyes and replied, “Everything is in its usual place. Help yourself.”  
This ungrateful being has fallen into sleep when Obito came back with a pillow. He spread his blanket, took one last look at those pale skin and clear bruises, and then lay down with her.  
This time, there was no naked Kakashi in his dream -- perfectly normal as dreams was not something like a controllable TV series. What was broken could not have a sequel: Obito stepped into purple berries and milky juice was squished from bright-coloured pulps. They snugged comfortably around his thighs while warm breath of wind carried something sweet knocking his eardrums. The milky things began rising, rising again --  
Obito blinked, making sure there was no liquid in his mouth or nose. Yet the warmth on his thigh and the muffled breathing in his ear were still too real to be true, it is --  
It is Kakashi.  
The boxer was stuck around the knees while she rubbed her labia against Obito’s thigh. Her warm juice had dipped his gorgeous body hair into pinches. As she had warned earlier -- a drugged Kakashi were not likely to be held responsible for her actions.  
The skinny scarecrow had finally showed her claws. Obito rolled over, unwittingly activated his Sharingan. Three magatamas spinning around in his eye were now focused on that abnormally flushed face -- no matter, Obito would tear her into pieces before those spikes pierced him.  
In theory, the special drug from Anbu would put Kakashi into a half-coma and half-anesthetic sleep efficiently: during the period, most of her physical sense would be cut off. As for the psychological side -- a blade tucked up in a scabbard could do no harm to its owners and they did not need to worry about the scratches inside.  
Her skin and flesh were pierced with the tip of the needle: in, out; in, out; in, out. She could only notice the strange feeling of being punctured and pulled by surgical sutures and finally the pain, which didn’t even form properly before it was trapped into a thick cocoon of weariness.  
One second Obito’s footsteps crunched in her ear canal through the wooden floor, and then Rin’s calls formed an eerie whisper in her skull. She knew exactly what would happen next: that thirteen-year-old brunette with blood trickling down her mouth, repeating her name over and over again -- Kakashi, Kakashi, Kakashi --  
One strange thing about dreams is that people didn’t need physical organs to feel. Kakashi’s senses had long been mixed with this nightmare. And so, as always, she decided that the best way to cope was to watch and listen: focusing on that bloody wound until it deformed into something else. Her elbows went into different torsos over and over again -- Minato, Kushina and her father. More often, it was just a piece of cold dead meat.  
In, out; in, out; in, out. Handles and frames were growing from the spines -- latches were pulled up but the hinges began to bend -- her tongues was boiling with acid, her heart was bursting out of the ribs and her lungs were constricting due to the lack of air -- they were coming in, they were coming in, they were coming in -- the small panel of the door fell completely out of her fingers.  
Kakashi rolled in the darkness of the inside of her skull: it was drier than expected, even the juice of brain was warm around her chin, making some tingling feelings between her legs. For a moment her eyeball seemed to be squeezed out of her skull by a flooding fluid. It looked down with some completely strange thoughts -- Kakashi was sure that she never found this skinny and flawed body attractive, let alone sexual desires. If anything, she thought the only pretty thing on her was that left eye.  
The man who caused her being sent back to the headquarter and got drugged seemed to have the similar view. Kakashi felt a sickly despise: That one is fucking confident, huh.  
What I really want is --  
The prickling turned to an itch, which soon transformed into an emptiness, drilling inwards while expanding outwards.  
Kakashi’s eyeball was re-pressed back into her skull. Even the icy medicine flooding through her veins could not suppress the turmoil now: she was choked in some salty, warm brain while the boundary between hot and cold was pressed down heavily. Kakashi was cut into countless pieces, all diving deeper into her own minds.  
Obito’s thigh slipped out of Kakashi’s grips when he shifted. Wisps of body hair with cooling fluids stuck on his skin had create a burning sensation. Her dimmed silver hair was again flowing like a mist on the mat, limbs twitching slightly due to the lack of support -- at that moment Obito thought he had really passed through that narrow cut. Even though he failed to hold her heart, at least he could choked her windpipe -- there were some tiny, suffocating noise rubbing along Kakashi’s throat. She sounded like choking.  
Even when she was stretching out her spikes, Obito still thought Kakashi was vulnerable. The realization made his growing fears rather absurd: he was no longer the dead last and if one day she went to his opposite side -- well, sometimes Obito wondered how much easier life would have been if Kakashi had really been dead.  
Never mind. If that day should come, if everything would come to the point of not return -- Obito knew that he has the ability and the will to finish her off, swiftly.  
He put two fingers together between the gap of bandages, removing her right breast. The small soft flesh was wrapped completely in his palm, just plump enough to show through fingers when applying force. Obito pinched the pinkish nipple and rolled it roughly. He was satisfied to notice that those green and yellow marks covering on her breast was now washed away by the new red prints.  
Kakashi seemed to want to close her half-spread legs. Obito immediately took off her panties and kicked her knees apart, revealing the organ between: the swollen labia were covered with silver public hair. Obito used his thumb to stick into that bright-coloured pulps feeling them sucking involuntarily, making everything itch and hot. He then licked at her clit from up to down along the seam with force, grinding the nub with his tongue. Salty is not his favorite, but she tasted pretty good.  
Heavy inhalations rose steeply and broke at its peak. Kakashi limped down with even breathes. Only the organ between her legs was still trembling in the aftermath of orgasm. Obito wiped his wet chin and pushed his cock into that wriggling hole. Kakashi only twitched slightly when he entered. Apart from the occasional moans, it felt like Obito was just raping a dead body.  
He grabbed that narrow waist, drawing the young Anbu captain out from their bedding and plunged her on to his crotch. Kakashi’s arms rolled lazily down from Obito’s shoulder but they were seized and secured around his neck. Everything seemed to overlap with the previous weird dream: Kakashi being nailed by a man, her left breast was forced into different shapes, those flushed nipples were pushed against Obito’s full chest muscles -- he pinched those pale skin while licking that little mole on her chin. The silvery mist was dangling around him. It broke shortly by Obito’s fingers and then went backwards loosely: he leaned over, bit on Kakashi’s neck, trying desperately to leave something permanent.  
While experiencing that wild rush of pleasure, Obito felt that nameless fear again -- he still remembered the end of that dream, how Kakashi had opened her mismatched eyes, how she had plunged dancing lightening from her fingertips in the man’s heart.  
Never mind. Obito could get away from that. He could finish her off. He could -- he won’t -- I couldn’t get away.  
“Obito.”  
It was not a moan of affection, nor a command of flirt. Kakashi’s glassy eyes seemed to gaze at something from the past of future, and she clearly replied, “Obito.”  
Then, as if pleased that she had finally remembered the final answer, she fell forward, covering Obito’s face with a fine silver mist. He groaned and spilled inside her body.  
Obito sat there for a moment while holding Kakashi close. Her smooth breathes were leading his frantically beating heart to calm down step by step. He then slowly lowered her down onto the blanket and pulled apart: the semen that had been pooled in her channel was now released -- milky juice oozing from some bright-coloured pulps -- the circle was complete.  
Obito caught a drip of fluid with his fingertip and pushed it back. The marks he brought to Kakashi would soon fade to dull yellow as well. How long would it last? A week? Or half a month?  
Kakashi woke up with a little bulging tummy. Fumbling back, she realized that Obito’s half-harden cock was still plugged inside her -- so what she had seen then was not an illusion and Obito probably had done something else after that for her backside was a bit sore as well.  
There were still some drugs remained in her system. Kakashi carefully lifted Obito’s arm from her stomach, considering carelessly for a moment and finally decided that the other man was probably just following the principle of helping comrades.  
For the time being, of course, she could shrug off all those guilty feelings with the after effect of drugs. In fact, Kakashi thought her behaviour is quite distasteful. After all, she was used to hide behind Obito and relied on him to speak for her: such as confirming that White Fang was the hero, or the doubts toward Konoha and authorities. Though Obito had changed, Kakashi still couldn’t help to cast her hopelessly love and desires on him. She knew that it is not his duty to save her from the muddy water, just as she never learned how to comfort Obito when they were still kids.  
But, if Obito was willing to ask, Kakashi would have given all she had. She imagined herself kneeling at his feet, cramming all those answers into those potholed scars and roaring chakra.  
She had barely sat up and something inside her was beginning to rush out. Kakashi had to walked  
awkwardly into the bathroom. The water pressure was always low in the morning so she turned on the tap eventually, waiting for hot water while letting Obito’s sperm run down her thighs.  
Somebody was starring.  
Kakashi turned around. Her head was still dizzy and the rushing water and a naked Obito were not helping.  
“Anbu put me on leave for the authority thought I was mad -- the objective said he was going to put his dick in to my left eye, which I allowed -- ”  
Fuck it, she did love that sullen look from Obito.  
“I chopped his dick off with Kamui,” she sneered, “it seems that even applying hospice cares is going to be censured, which is really --”  
She made an rude gesture feebly and waited, hopelessly.  
Obito walked in and passed through the steaming splashing water. He stopped in front of Kakashi and forced her to look at him, “I know. I was in the Kamui at that time.”  
Before Kakashi could said anything else, he shoved his hand between her legs, rubbing over her still-swollen clit and re-inserted his finger.  
“Huh,” Kakashi hit her back of the head against the cool ceramic tiles. Those drugs were taking effect again but she fought it with her will, “Is this all you want to ask?”  
Obito moved his Adam’s apple slightly. A moment of utter silence, then, “You said something about Sandaime and not willing to leave a record, what is wrong?”  
Ah, just as I thought. Kakashi shivered when Obito's calluses scratched her skin. “Well,” the drug enveloped her again into its chaotic shell, “that is another long, long story --tell me, have you ever heard of a name called Danzo?”


End file.
